


A Tale of a Shudder

by lucky_little_daffodil



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Aramis is Puss in Boots/ The Frog Prince, Athos is the beast, Constance is the brave little tailor, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Porthos is Aladdin/ the soldier from"The Soldier and Death", but the plot is not going to follow a singal tale but have elements of all, d'Artagnan is Fearnot, everyone is a fairy tale character, includes not so well known tales, more tags will be added, plot will mirror the first season
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 07:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2573039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucky_little_daffodil/pseuds/lucky_little_daffodil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When d'Artagnan's father dies in his arms, he learns what fear is for the first time in his life and vows to find his father's killer, a beast. But what will d'Artagnan do when the killer he finds is more man than beast, and it turns out that the entire kingdom is in danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Prologue or Where Things Begin

D’Artagnan could honestly say he had never felt a moment of fear in his whole life. He had never been afraid of spiders, or snakes, or even large heights. As he got older he was not afraid of fights, or fires, or even rampaging bulls. D’Artagnan had known before anyone else did, that there was something strange about him. He had once heard his father explain bravery as action in the face of fear, and he had known when others called him brave that wasn’t right. He had never known fear. 

He had climbed up the barn roof at six without a single care for anything other than seeing all of the farm at once. He hadn’t even felted fear when he slipped and fell down such a long way. He hadn’t been afraid of the bully who picked on his friends and at ten year of age had called the lager boy a stupid ogre. He was still unafraid as the bully’s fist came swinging to his face. When he was sixteen and he heard there was a troll in the woods he had marched straight into the trees worrying only for the children who took that path every day from school. He had felt a twinge of remorse when the troll had raised his club over his head and d’Artagnan realized he had left his sword at home. 

No, d’Artagnan knew he had never felt fear in all his life. Not till now. Not till holding his father’s bleeding form. Not till he watched his father’s life slip from him, helpless to do anything. His father lips parted and he heard him whisper “T-the beast…” as the light in his eyes left, and d’Artagnan felt himself shudder for the first time.


	2. Enter a Tailor or d'Artagnan Gets Distracted

It had been three sleepless days and nights since his father’s death and d’Artagnan was still looking for the beast who slayed his father. He knew he was close. Everyone he had asked gave no reply but a look had come over their faces. He knew that expression. It was fear. 

Then he had heard of the trolls. They lived not far off and had lately become an annoyance. He couldn’t leave them unattended to. So off he marched, remembering his sword this time, until he had come upon their cave.

“Hello I’m d’Artagnan,” he called out. “I heard you have been bothering the village and eating people, so I have come to kill you all.”

They all laughed. One, two, three, he counted them. More than last time, but three was a lucky number so he should manage.

“Oh look at the brave young man come to make a name for his self by killing trolls,” the biggest laughed. “Won’t he be tasty to eat.”

“I’m not brave,” d’Artagnan corrected. “And you won’t be eating me.”

“Are you an idiot?” someone called from behind.

D’Artagnan turned to see a woman from the village marching forward. “Are you really going to fight them by yourself?”

“No one else came.”

She looked at him and then to the trolls, sighed, and said, “I did.”

“You’re going to help?”

“Someone has to. There’s too many for just you.”

“It doesn’t matter who helps,” one of the trolls replied annoyed at being ignored. “We will crush your bones and eat you in a stew.”

He swung his club at d’Artagnan who jumped away just in time. “Did you bring your sword?” D’Artagnan asked the woman.

“Of course I did,” she said pulling hers out. “What idiot goes off to fight trolls without one?”

“I did once,” he answered as he pulled his own out and ran forward into danger.

Sometime later the trolls lay dead on the ground, both d’Artagnan and his friend remained standing. He smiled at her saying, “Told them they wouldn’t eat me.” and then he passed out.

~ooo~

He awoke in a soft bed in a strange room. “About time.” he heard a cross voice say. He looked up at the woman from before.

“I’m sorry,” he said sitting up. “I hadn’t rested for three days and nights. My name is d’Artagnan.”

“I’m Constance,” She said placing some bread and soup into his hands. “Why would you go off to fight trolls in a state like that?”

“Someone needed to,” he replied digging into his bowl remembering he also hadn’t eaten in three days and nights.

“That’s not brave!” she said disgusted. “That’s just stupid!”

“I know.” He said and then after a pause. “Why did you come after me?”

“Someone needed to,” She replied crossly.

“That was brave,” d’Artagnan said smiling up at her.

She gave him a look, “Why haven’t you slept or eaten in so long?” 

“My father was slayed by a beast now looking it. Have you heard of any?” d’Artagnan asked watching the look of fear come over her face. He suspected that would be the end of that and he would be sent on his way.

What he hadn’t expected was an answer. “There is a beast who lives in a castle far in the wood, but I have never heard of him killing anyone.”

He leapt up from the bed, “I have to find him.”

“You just passed out!” 

“He killed my father.”

He had begun pulling on his torn jacket. “Don’t bother with that. Here wear this one. It should fit, and it should keep you safe.”

He took it from her and looked at it. It was clearly made in just his size. “I made it while you slept a thank you for the trolls.”

“You didn’t have to-”

“Yes I did. I’ve sewn some protection spells into the seams too,” Constance said looking crossly at him again. “You’re an idiot, so I’m sure you’ll get your use out of them.”

“Thank you, my brave little tailor,” d’Artagnan said smiling at his kind friend once more. “I’m glad I met you.”

“You’re lucky you met me,” she said passing him a basket of bread and cheese. “You’d be dead without me.” 

He waved to her as he set off on the path into the woods. He heard her call after him, “Don’t forget to eat or sleep this time!” she add after a pause “And don’t forget your sword!”


	3. An Enchanted Wood or In Which Constance Has A Point

The wood was enchanted. Anyone could tell that. The trees stopped growing straight the further in you walked and all song birds vanished till only crows and vultures remained. A fog so thick it could barely be seen through formed not much longer after that. And then the trees began to grow so dense they blocked out all light and the whole forest looked as if it were the middle of the night, though d’Artagnan knew that it could only be midday at that point.

Finally he came upon the castle that lay in the middle of the wood. It looked as twisted and dark as the trees, though it was easy to imagine it as it must have looked long before the beast came to live there. The gate was rusted and bent. D’Artagnan walked though it without pause. The grounds were over grown and as wild as the wood. He marched pass them as well and up the steps to the huge doors. Monsters were carved into the dark wood. They dance around the frame with fearsome teeth. He pushed the doors open with some difficulty and slipped inside. 

Once there he looked around. He didn’t know what he had been expecting. Perhaps the beast to leap at him the moment he entered, but there was nothing there. He was starting to feel like he was breaking and entering, but that was silly. He was here to kill the beast that killed his father and likely whoever had once lived in this house. He marched on through the house. 

It was dark and murky. Everything had a film of dust over it. It at one time had been beautiful furnished and paintings hung on the wall showing all the castles previous inhabitants. One was clawed through on the wall. D’Artagnan went to it and tried to move the torn canvas back where he could see the faces. It was of a couple, a man and woman. The woman was beautiful, exceptionally so, but his eyes were drawn to the man. He had a noble bearing and sad cold blue eyes.

D’Artagnan stood there for some time studying the painting till he heard something. He turned to follow the sound. It led him out into the garden. It was as wild as the front had been and thorny roses dominated it. But it still looked reminiscent of the types of gardens wealthy nobles would have with hedges lining the long paths and brush shaped like animals. Now the hedges were over grown and towering turning the paths into a maze and the brushes looked monstrous and deformed. Before the maze began there simply sitting area where nobles had once sat and chatted with each other and in the middle was the beast.

The beast was large, larger than the trolls had been. It had the fur of a bear, horns of a ram, claws of an eagle, and the face of a lion, and old rags hung around its body. Its teeth were the size of a grown man’s finger and their sharp edges caught the light.

“I’m looking for the beast,” D’Artagnan called out from the entrance.

“You found him,” The beast said turning to him, his monstrous face looking surprised.

“My name is d’Artagnan. Prepare to fight, one of us dies here.” 

A cat that d’Artagnan only then noticed, meowed “Now that’s the way to make an entrance.”

D’Artagnan marched forward, stopped, and looked at the cat. That hadn’t sound like a meow. He saw a man standing nearby as well. It must have been him. He shook his head and pulled his sword out.

“May I ask why you want to kill me?” the beast asked politely.

“You killed my father.”

“You are mistaken.”

“BEAST!” D’Artagnan yelled swinging his sword at the beast who ducked. “Do you deny killing a man three days ago outside a small village inn?”

“I do not leave the castle. It was not me.”

“Then you are a liar as well as a beast.”

A look of confusion came across him as d’Artagnan broke to a run towards him. The beast pulled out a sword just in time to meet d’Artagnan’s. Why he didn’t just use his claws d’Artagnan couldn’t guess. The beast was very good with a sword despite the strange hand that wheedled it. He was having difficulty keeping up. He heard the man talking to someone as they fought. Himself? D’Artagnan missed the beast’s sword by an inch. He tried to ignore the strange man after that.

Suddenly he was slammed against a wall by the beast, its razor sharp claw dug into the stone near d’Artagnan’s throat. “That’s Enough!” the beast roared. It drew close its breath across d’Artagnan’s face. Up close he could see the rags the beast wore had once been fine robes, and more disturbingly its eyes were human. They were a sad cold blue that d’Artagnan immediately recognized.

“Why aren’t you afraid?” the beast asked in a voice that, like his eyes, was far too human.

“I have only felt fear once in my life,” d’Artagnan replied without flinching spitting out the words. “When you killed my father.” 

“I could have sliced your throat,” the beast said letting him go and turning his back to walk away. “I did not kill your father and I do not wish to kill you over a mistake.” 

D’Artagnan drew a knife from his belt and threw it at the beast. He heard someone shout a warning, and the beast barely missed the knife. It landed in a tree next to where the cat was siting. The cat looked affronted.

“And that could have been your back! Now fight me!” he pointed the sword at the beast. “Or die on your knees! I don’t care which.” He then roared and charged forward.

There was a sudden a streak of brown that leapt in front of him and his sword was pinned down on a table that lay in the garden. He looked up to see a brown cat in front of him with dark marks around its mouth that made it look as if it had a mustache and goatee. The cat’s paw was over his sword holding it down. It opened its mouth and once again no meow came out but instead, “He has had enough.” The cat stated calmly.

“Very well,” d’Artagnan said moving on quickly from his confusion about cats talking. “I will fight both of you.”

He broke free of the cat’s paw and began to fight the two. It wasn’t easy to adjust to the large height difference between the two. The cat, unlike the beast, had no qualms about fighting with its claws. The cat honestly got in more scratches than d’Artagnan would be proud of later. Then he found his sword pinned again by the beast’s sword and the cat’s paw. Suddenly yet another sword came down on his.

“Then you have to fight me too,” said the strange man from before, well maybe a little less strange now d’Artagnan knew he wasn’t talking to himself. “I mean really, threatening a cat?”

“I guess you’ll have to kill me for it!” he said breaking free again. He began fighting all of them at once, and quickly getting dizzy. Then he tripped and was pinned again and not just by his sword, all three had their weapons pointed at him. He was starting to get embarrassed by this.

There was a shout from behind “Put down you weapons! All of you!” 

It was Constance.

“Fine,” replied the beast coldly after a pause pulling back his sword. “We weren’t going to kill him anyway.”

“We weren’t?” the man asked sounding disappointed.

The cat was the last to withdraw his weapon. He retracted his claws and licked his paw still on d’Artagnan’s chest. “Next time tell us,” he said before hopping off of d’Artagnan.

“It wasn’t him, d’Artagnan,” Constance said running over to him.

“What?”

“Didn’t you ask him?”

“He wouldn’t listen,” replied the beast.

“If only men would talk instead of fight. There might be more good ones left.”

The cat seemed pleased at being called a man, “Him I’m not sure about. Her I like.”

“There was another attack, in my village. This time I saw the beast as it ran away d’Artagnan. I came to help you because I realized you couldn’t defeat it on your own, but he isn’t the one I saw.” She then looked to the others and added, “They were forming a mob in the village when I left.”

“That’s bad,” the man said looking at his friend the beast.

“Why?” d’Artagnan asked. “Constance will tell them he didn’t kill anyone in the village. It’s me you still have to worry about.”

“Don’t know much about mobs do you?” the man replied. “Listen, if you can’t be swayed by reason what makes you think a large group of angry people can?”

D’Artagnan didn’t have time to reply before the mob had appeared. All that could be heard was yelling and things were being broken in the house. The mob surrounded the beast, and tried though his friends might they could not defend him from them. They were pushed to the side. Constance quickly bent to pick up the cat from the angry feet stomping on the ground all around them. It was chaos, until a loud shout could be heard.

“Stop This At Once!” called out a knight standing before them. “There will be a trial.”

“For A Beast?” someone called out furious from the crowd.

“For the Lord Athos de la Fere,” the knight replied. “Now step back.” 

The crowd was forced to move back as knights came forward to put chains around the beast. The crowd had clearly wounded him but he had done nothing while this had all happened. The beast had not even roared. D’Artagnan finally question if such a creature were capable of killing a man.

“All evidence will be reviewed at this trial,” the knight called out looking at the man and the cat mostly. “It will be held the tomorrow. All citizens will be welcomed.”  
As the beast was led away he turned to d’Artagnan, “I am not the beast you’re looking for.”


End file.
